


The Vow

by A_Kid_Named_Hiro



Series: MadaTobi Week [14]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossover, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 09:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Kid_Named_Hiro/pseuds/A_Kid_Named_Hiro
Summary: Prompt:Free Day(fromMadaTobi Week 2018).





	The Vow

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: _Free Day_ (from **[MadaTobi Week 2018](https://madatobiweek.tumblr.com/post/174594542851/madatobi-week-2018-prompts)** ).

She wears his ring around her neck.

It is the first thing you notice about her, the way it rests against the pale flesh beneath her deceivingly delicate collarbone, the way sunlight glints off of it like the shine of a bullet.

Her mouth is a hard line upon her face. Chaos in her eyes. Grief and anger. _Shame,_ boundless. Brittleness in the shadowed corners of her gaze. She does not cry. Pride won't allow it.

You know this because she looks like you.

  


* * *

  


This is like the start of a bad joke.

Two Bosses in two caskets. Two right-hands, shared failure between them.

You wear _his_ ring upon your finger. You know you do not have the right to wear it, to own it, but — like her — you cannot, _will not,_ give it up.

She catches your eye and you know what she's thinking.

You know because you're thinking it too.

It should be _you_ in that casket. It should've been you on the concrete, bullets in your body, bleeding out.

  


* * *

  


Tobirama was never supposed to die.

You have always thought him invincible, even when he lay encased in ice for eight years. Face twisted into a rictus of hate. Life churning beneath his bones. You have always felt it — his flame, raging against his fate, his blood, burning, burning.

Now he lies lithic and pale, the red of his eyes hidden beneath lids that will never again open. His flame, quelled, trammeled within the prison of his bones. Peace is a mockery upon the hard lines of his face.

And this is the biggest mockery of all.

That he would lie in a casket next to Namikaze Minato's. That he fell as Minato did, ambushed, cornered, slain like animals.

You look at your Boss and you see your failure.

You look at Kushina and you see despair.

  


* * *

  


You stay long after the funeral's over. Watch your Boss lowered into the ground and you know that this is it. This is all there is.

You will no longer find him in his office. His bedroom. The hallways of the castle.

You will not feel his snarl against your lips, his teeth upon your skin, the strength of his body engulfing your own.

He will not bend you over his desk, press you against a wall, the bed, the floor, and fuck you against it, _into_ it.

His hot breath. His trenchant smirk. His wild, wild eyes.

You will no longer feel his fist in your hair. Curling, tangling, snapping.

This accursed hair that hangs heavy like guilt and futility, almost as long as Kushina's now.

You really fucking hate your hair.

You gather it in a tight fist. Slice it off with your blade.

Watch the strands fall into the ground, upon his casket. Black upon the lacquered dark of the heavy, closed lid.

The weight of Kushina's gaze upon you. It feels a lot like understanding.

It feels a lot like pity.

  


* * *

  


Peace is an impossible thing.

You know that you will never find it. You are the Varia's Rain. Kushina, the Vongola's Storm. You were both made for chaos and violence, bred for consummate destruction.

But what are the Rain and the Storm without their Sky?

You are a dead man, and you know that in _your_ world, there is no peace in death. Not for Tobirama or Minato. Not for Kushina. Not for you.

Her hand upon your shoulder is a sobering thing.

The sun is setting. It makes her hair look like her flame and Minato's, intermingled. Her eyes are diamond-hard.

She unclasps the chain around her neck. Slides Minato's ring onto her finger. Strength and pride and blood in her gaze.

It is _she_ who commands the Vongola now.

And before her, before the graves of her heart and yours, you kneel. Bow your head. Kiss the ring upon her finger.

You swear loyalty. You swear revenge.


End file.
